


Finding Balance

by SunnyD_lite



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-27
Updated: 2010-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-08 18:16:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyD_lite/pseuds/SunnyD_lite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things were stabilizing. Not what it 'twere before, but then again afters never were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Balance

**Author's Note:**

> TamingtheMuse Prompt: Alkaline  
> Feedback: is the food of the gods! (or goddesses)

Mal double checked the flight plan. Not that he'd likely catch an error in River's math, but no matter what the others thought, Serenity was still his to care for.

Even if the ship herself seemed to disagree.

Admitting defeat, he made the entry and let her navigate herself awhile. The Operative had been as good as his word; she'd never been so responsive or humming. 'Course the humming might just be the goings on between the other Tam and his mechanic. He was getting very good at listening 'round corners before advancing. But Kaylee was happy so he was willing to give his girl that. He just really wished they'd keep it in her bunk.

With a whispered, "look after her," he brushed the dinosaurs that were now permanently glued to the helm and then left the cockpit. Things were stabilizing. Not what it 'twere before, but then again afters never were.

After the war. After buying the ship. After taking on the Tams. No, life never did repeat itself. He grinned as he walked down the corridor, wondering what was coming next.

Which was when he was smacked with a brackish smell. Then he coughed as he encountered a blackish cloud. "KAYLEE!" He picked up speed, still walking but letting his boots thud against the steel flooring as warning, as a release of some of his stress. Serenity had been doing so well. "KAYLEE!"

"Twasn't me, Captain, " a small voice behind him called. His back stiffened and he refused to turn around, not wanting to see what state of dishabille she might be in.

"Then what in tarnation?" He continued forward. Something was wrong and he had to fix it. He just hoped he'd have more luck. Following his nose, he ended up in the kitchen and paused at the doorway.

He hadn't known they had that many bowls and measuring devices. He could mix a mean meal or three, but never anything require that level of of stuff.

"Not in balance. Too much. Too little."

River's coverall was splashed with white powder and she was wearing those goggles which had not themselves escaped the splatter. She held onto a spoon but the look on her face indicated it was not a tasty mess, though mess it surely was. He watched as she spun and grabbed one of the last unlabelled cans.

"Almost right. Mostly wrong." She was about to open it, when Mal decided it was time to intervene.

"River?" Growing up on the ranch had meant knowing a skittish colt or two. Meant learning how to calm them. Such lessons had become invaluable in River wrangling. Slow and steady. "River?"

A pot behind her began to bubble up, increasing the noxious odour that tugged at his throat. They'd have to be changing the scrubbers sooner than later if it kept up much longer. "Can you tell me what you be doing? Cuz if it's an inventory, I think you're about done."

She shot him a look he'd learned to interpret as dismay at his stupidity. Didn't matter, got her attention which was half the battle when she was in a mood.

"Pots – 7, Pans 3 plus one too burnt to use. Bowls -Ten soup, 4 small, 3 medium, and two extra large mixing bowls. Can also break them down by material." She turned her back on him, in clear dismissal. He wasn't having any of that.

"Good to know, care to tell me what you are up to?"

"Missed last year. Trying to fix. You have no lobsters."

He attempted to puzzle it out, but that was norm with her even after the latest ruckus. Missed what? She'd missed so much in the last year, and if this ship had ever seen a lobster, it was only on Inara's shuttle. Best not think on that. "I do agree, we are a mite short on any sort of shell fish."

"His favourite. If broken into chemical components and re-integrated then it should be like new. But it's not. The ph is off, first too low, then too alkaline. And I can't fix it."

A picture slowly formed in his mind. Had it really been a year? Had it only been a year? "Little one, you of all of us know that bits and bobs can't recapture a whole." Mal was guessing that Kaylee wouldn't be making a cake this birthday. The boy probably gave his current gift more appreciation anyhow. Course with the two of them entangled, it was him left to untangle this mental mess.

"Simon don't need you to make such a fuss." He moved slowly toward the counter. "And Serenity sure don't need such a fuss. Less you know a way to get the scent out?"

"Sodium Bicarbonate," she blurted out. "It was here." She started to shuffle the tins of dry goods.

"Fine, fine. We'll be fixing that later. After we clear up this lot." He gestured to the cluttered counter top. "Good thing we've left atmo, can't fathom what type of dance these all be doing on entry."

She sent another glance his way, this one more mischievous. Well he'd given her that lead for a reason. "Only if you're driving." She grinned.

"Come now. We'll clean up and mayhaps you can look into our upcoming port. See if these lobsters of yours are available." Kaylee was right, his refugees were now family. And families celebrated good times when they came. "Best not to let him know about this mixed experiment, dogma?"

She nodded. Behind her the bubbling pot over flowed, spilling liquid onto the grill surface.

Mal coughed. "Sooner be better than later."

Another thud at the door. "River cooking? Smells just like my ma's grub. When's it ready?"

Just another day on Serenity.


End file.
